


Five Restless Nights

by Sookiestark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Sakaar (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 07:04:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14327163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sookiestark/pseuds/Sookiestark
Summary: Five Restless Nights of Black Widow, Hulk, and Bruce Banner





	1. Natasha

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been rattling around for quite some time. I don't usually write MCU stuff, so if there are glaring issues, I apologize. I tried to do my research but I just wanted to get the story out. It should be finished in the next two weeks. This first chapter takes place a few months after Age of Ultron but before Civil War.

Natasha cannot sleep. She has tried everything. She runs about five miles a day, trains for two, does yoga, lifts weights, spars. Her days are filled with exercise. Often, by the time night comes, she is sore and exhausted.

When she isn’t training or teaching new recruits, she is busy filling requisitions, purchase requests, entering data. After all, the new Avengers complex is a giant company, a business of keeping the world safe. Like every business, sometimes you have to fill purchase request, sign time sheets, hold meetings, take notes. Much of that work falls to her. 

In a different time, she might complain but she likes the monotony, the routine, and the constant distracting work. She liked the assurance that there would always be a hundred tasks she would never finish waiting for her in the morning. It kept every minute of the day busy.  
It helps her. 

Sometimes, at night, she collapses asleep on her bed exhausted from her busy days.

When she is not working, she sometimes is woken up by a phone call at 3 am from Tony Stark. He will ramble about some painting he bought, some design for better jet he is working on, a panini sandwich he bought that was the best he had ever eaten, how Pepper might be moving out for good this time. She listens to him, both what he is saying and what he is not saying. Tony is like an explosion used to divert the enemy. You have to see where he does not want you to look. Tony Stark might be talking about a thousand different things, but she knew why he called. He was anxious and Pepper was not there to distract him, to soothe him.

Sometimes, she and Steve would drive to the nearest town and have cheeseburgers and beers, watching the locals. Steve was calming to her with his easy manner and his inability to be dishonest. He reminded her of someone else and she liked that simpleness of being able to sit with him and laugh about the day, while classic rock blared from the jukebox. It reminded her of when she and Clint were younger and were still part of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Clint was home with his newest Barton, taking care of them on the farm. Occasionally, Clint and his wife would call her with a happy baby boy in the background. The scene was so idyllic that she sometimes felt like she could not breathe while she forced a real smile on her face and talked with them She was glad to talk to them, glad they were happy, glad they were safe. But, it was too perfect, too happy.

When Nathaniel Barton had first arrived, she had taken four days to visit with her favorite family. They had put her in the bedroom that she had shared with Bruce just a few months ago. She had spent the entire night going over all the things they said that day and all the things they didn’t say. She pressed herself into one of the pillows and tried to imagine that she could still smell the aftershave Bruce wore. However, if she thought about it, she did not think that he had slept here, and if he had, it would not have been his aftershave, but more likely some of Clint’s that had been left in the spare bathroom. She still smelled the pillow and pressed it against her head.

On the fourth day, she had been glad to see the jet in the yard to pick her up. Natasha had kissed and hugged the Bartons and climbed into the jet, waving through the windows. She had thought to herself that she was so glad to leave that place behind. She had not been able to sleep the entire time she had been there. 

Natasha spent most of her days beside Steve. She valued his opinion and his respect. He was her friend. She had started working late, running files and crunching data to see if they could find Bucky. Steve seemed pretty focused on finding and saving his friend. Natasha understood that and it was why she helped him. 

Tonight is one of those many nights where sleep eludes her. Sometimes, melatonin will push her into sleep. Sometimes, she takes some of the white pills the doctor prescribed to help her sleep. They make her groggy and she doesn't take them too often. Tonight, she has tried white noise, melatonin, a warm bath, a glass of water, and nothing is working. Tonight, she is restless.

She found herself thinking of Bruce, the way his hand felt in hers, the soft way his brown eyes would watch her, the shyness and the honesty he had. Often when Natasha was sleepless, she would find herself thinking of him in the dark, wondering if he was in Fiji, wondering what he might be doing or feeling, wondering if he might come back to them someday. 

She could remember the color of his shirt in the darkness of the laboratory. It was an odd detail, even for a woman who made her living on observing details. Natasha could remember his earnestness, his willingness to be vulnerable to settle down, to take her away and leave all of it, to just be with her. Natasha and Bruce living on a farm or a small house in nowhere, as if they could be so simple as if it was just that easy as wanting it. 

She had kissed him at that moment. It hadn’t been the most polished or practiced kiss she had ever had, but it was one of the best. Feeling him pull her against him, he kissed her with all the passion of a man deeply in love. The heat from the kiss still burned when she thought of it. She did not know if she had ever been kissed by a man who loved her and knew who she was. It was a powerful feeling, addictive and hot.

“I adore you,” she had said. She had at that moment and still did, wherever he was. 

She remembered knowing what she had to do, Natasha might need Bruce, but the world needed Hulk. It was necessary for her to put aside what she might want. Self- sacrifice came easily to her. It was something she was programmed to do. 

She remembered the faint smell of aftershave, the soft feel of his arms moving to hold her. For a second, she imagined what his eyes would look like if they continued the kiss if she had pulled him to a corner, or a table or the floor.

Natasha had not. Instead, she had pushed him down the vent and said, “But I need the other guy.” 

Hulk had emerged and she could see Bruce’s anger underneath Hulk. She had betrayed Bruce. At the very least, she had manipulated him and broken his trust.

In the dark, she had thought these things. She would spend many restless nights, thinking about Sokovia, that kiss, that push.

She wondered if he ever would come back and if he did, would she ever get a second chance?


	2. Hulk

Hulk likes it here on Sakaar. There is only fighting and training and winning here. He likes that. He loves the winning. He loves the cheering of the crowds. The people like Hulk here. They don’t even know about Banner, but if they did, they would not like him. After all Banner is weak, vulnerable, tiny. On Sakaar, it's just him; Hulk, the Champion. Here the people dress in green and make signs for here. Here is good for Hulk. 

Here on this planet, it is all fighting and cheering for him. No one is worried about who he injures or how much destruction he caused or how many people died. It is all revelry and joy. It is good. It is so much better than Earth. Earth is all worry and thinking. 

Sometimes, after practicing with 142, he would soak in his tub and feel his muscles and the weight of his arms. Sometimes, as he looks at his hand, he sees a tiny hand over his palm. He will splash the water to push the thoughts out of his head. He did not think much, and he tried to never think of earth. He likes that Banner is deep inside him, sulking, bound up, and powerless. Only when he thought of Earth, Banner would get louder and resist, try to regain control. Earth and Natasha.

He would never go back to Earth again. It was all Sakaar and Hulk was fine with that. 

Earth was Banner’s realm, Banner’s world. Banner understood Earth and all its rules and stupid men in suits. Stupid Earth. Stupid Banner, always overthinking everything. He never thought of Earth.  


Sometimes, when he dreamed, he would dream about Earth and smashing robots or aliens, or throwing Loki around over, and over, and over again. He liked the smashing, the fighting, the strength of his arms and legs as he fought. However, no matter how good the fighting was, dreams of Earth always became unsettling, almost nightmares. 

The red-headed woman in black was always there in those dreams or she would emerge from the smoke and rubble. She was his weakness. As he fought beside her in his dream, he knew, if she fell, he would fall. When Natasha, was near him, it was like being in Banner’s body, a pathetic, puny, weak, human body. Instead of his impenetrable, green hulk skin, he had skin that could bruise and bleed. Natasha made him vulnerable. 

 

The dreams would change and become soft. She would come to him, just her and him, soft words, soft hands. Her long, white fingers resting gently against his giant green ones. Her voice would speak, “You've got to turn the ship around. We can't track you in stealth mode. Come back.”

She tried to smile, to act like him leaving didn’t bother her. He did not want her in her dreams because when she was there, Banner got louder and fought for control.

Hulk would wake angry, angry that he had dreamed of her again, angry that her memory had woken Banner deep within him. He was never going back, not for her, not for anything. 

 

On Earth, people like Banner and Hulk is just a tool to be used. Sometimes, he could feel Banner locked within him, trying to get out, to gain control. But Hulk would fight and Banner would disappear under the pounding of his fist. On Sakaar, Hulk is the Champion. Hulk wins and everyone cheers. It is all he needs. 

Once, the Grand Master sent pleasure slaves to serve him a brunette and a blonde. He knew that the Grand Master had cameras and was watching. Hulk did not care. Let the Grand Master watch the girls pleasure Hulk. Sex was not what Hulk needed or wanted, but it did not bother him. But when three more girls came in, one had red hair and white skin. When Bruce had seen the girl, he had woken and almost regained control. Hulk had torn the bed from the wall and thrown it through the wall. All the girls had gone screaming from the room.

Hulk had reminded Banner that Natasha had chosen him, Hulk. Banner had quieted and Hulk had remained Hulk.

Since then, the Grand Master rarely sent pleasure slaves and never one with red hair.


	3. Natasha

She had been living where she could, doing small jobs, trying to blend, trying to disappear. She had been living by working here or there. For the first time in her life, she had not worked for an intelligence agency in a government or the Avengers. After letting Steve get to the jet and escape, she had left the Avengers and disappeared among the general population. Tony didn’t have to fire her; she disappeared. 

In the last two years, so much had changed. Natasha felt like she needed to escape and regroup. She needed to take some time and figure out why she was still here and what she was trying to accomplish. After all, she believed that the Avengers needed to be held accountable. Some of them might have superhuman abilities but they were all susceptible to human weaknesses like anxiety, grief, fear, pride, and even love. Even Vision, she had seen the way he looked at Wanda. In the right situation, Vision could be compromised because of his feelings.

It was one of the first things she had learned in the Red Room. Everyone could be compromised. 

It was a word that resonated with her. It was a word she felt described her. 

She had let Steve go, even if she had believed he was in the wrong. Natasha had decided in that second that she trusted Steve to know what he was doing, even if she could not understand it. She had acted contrary to the mission objective and could not explain why objectively. Natasha was compromised. 

For the last few months, she had been a bartender at this beach bar in the New England coastal town for the summer. She liked the small sleepy town brimming with tourists from Boston and New York. She would get up early with the break of sunrise and run along the seashore. 

She had cut her hair and dyed it blonde. Sometimes, she missed her hair, red and lovely, but she felt stronger without it. Her hair symbolized the difference she felt internally. Plus, it helped disguise her. People recognized the Black Widow as a redhead, but she was blonde.

 

Natasha felt herself collapsing like a black hole in on herself. Most of her days were a compilation of customers, music, and morning runs. She had seen on the news that Clint and the rest had escaped and now they were on the run, war criminals with Steve, rogue warriors beyond rules and accords, above the law. Sometimes, she thought she would go and find them, join them.

After all, she had helped Steve find Bucky. Maybe, it was his turn to help her look for someone she had lost. Steve would help her if she asked him. But she could not ask. If she thought about, Steve probably was looking for Bruce already. Steve was like that, a thoughtful friend.  


She had started drinking at night after she got off work. At first, it was only on the weekends. Slowly, Natasha had found herself drinking more and more. She tried to tell herself it helped her sleep, but she knew that was a lie. It helped her stop thinking about Sokovia, which was more helpful.

Natasha was not surprised when she looked up from a beer at a bar and saw Steve sit down next to her. He had grown a beard and looked like half of the tourists in the bar except he was so ridiculously good looking. She smiled and ordered another drink for herself and a beer for her friend. She spoke, “You look good.”

Steve smiled, looking concerned. “How are you doing?”

Listening to 80’s rock play on the jukebox, they drank two or three more drinks. She could feel the warm soft tint of a buzz from the alcohol. Nat knew that Steve could drink with her all night and barely feel a slight change in mood. 

As they walked back to her apartment, she pushed him against a building that sold souvenirs during the day. Pushing against him, she had teased him gently, “We need to practice more, Steve. Kiss me.”

Steve was good at doing what he was asked to and so he leaned over and kissed her. When they kissed, she realized that Steve had been practicing. She wondered briefly with who but then the quickfire heat of his kiss spread across her stomach. Reaching up, she had put her arms around his neck.

Pulling back, he had mumbled something about her being drunk or sad. Carefully, he had pushed a stray hair from her face, “Let’s get you home and some water and rest.”

 

She had tried to protest but he was right about both. He had taken her hand and they had walked to her apartment. She wondered as people passed them in the dark streets, did they look like a couple walking together? 

When they had gotten her to her bed, he had helped her lay down with a glass of water by her bed. Steve was the consummate gentleman and friend. As she took off her jeans and climbed into bed, he had gone looking to see if she had any bananas because supposedly potassium helping hangovers.

“I don’t have any bananas.” she had said when he came back in the room. 

“I found that out,” he said. “I am going to head out and I will..”

“Maybe you could just stay,” she had said “I promise to keep my hands to myself. I just need someone to sleep next to me.” 

Steve had seemed unsure about the idea but had climbed in the small bed with Natasha and held her. 

In the warm space of his arms, pressed against his t-shirt, Nat found herself going back to that moment in Sokovia. Where would she have been if she had nodded in agreement and taken Bruce’s hand and left Sokovia? Where would they all be? Would the world have survived? What had she lost? 

She imagined Bruce making her eggs in a small kitchen, drinking coffee and reading the paper. She remembered that about him, he like to read papers and do the crossword puzzle. He could spend an hour or more working on the New York Times crossword. 

What would it be like to spend every night in bed next to him? Bruce would have a pile of books and his laptop on the table by his bed. She would have a kindle and a glass of water. The bed would be big but they would never use half of it because they would sleep curled up close. In the morning, she would get up before him and go for a run Then she would wake him up with a kiss. A kiss that could last days to finish.

How would it be to kiss him and to have days to continue the kiss? 

 

When she woke, Steve was making eggs and toast. 

“Come with me,” he said handing her a glass of water and some Tylenol for her headache. “You are not doing well, Nat... Come with me.”

She looked toward the shore, while Steve continued speaking, “Whatever you are doing here, it is not working out for you.” 

She looked at his blue eyes and spoke. “Where are we going?”

“Wakanda.”


	4. Bruce

Bruce did not like space. It made him feel vulnerable and small. Space was a limitless, cold, hostile place and it made him feel a sense of foreboding and anxiety. These were not good feelings for a person who turned into a green monster if he felt threatened or angry. Since he had been on this ship, he had tried meditation, soft music, deep breathing. Sometimes, it worked for a short time, but he could not lose the anxiety for too long. There was a sense of danger in the darkness and he was hurling towards it. 

Thinking it would help if he didn’t have a window, he asked to move to a room without a window into the cold dark depths of space. Thor had obliged, always affable and accommodating. Loki had made a joke about it and Bruce had felt Hulk ripple underneath the surface of his skin, angry at Loki’s jibe. Bruce had taken a deep breath and thought about a slender hand in his and repeated the mantra about a sun going down in his mind. 

Instead of a window, his room had a screen with a view of an Earth forest on a rainy day and the sound of the rain hitting thousands of leaves while the birds and frogs chirped in the distance on a loop. It made him feel better, not like he was hurtling through space at unbelievable speeds with a demi-god who once tried to subjugate humanity. 

 

The journey through space wasn’t entirely bad. He liked the people on the ship, though he had a sense that they would have preferred the Hulk. Korg was a nice guy and Bruce tried to learn all he could of his anatomy without sounding too invasive or being rude, as well as his culture, his planet. Sometimes, he would talk to the Captain, a rugged Asgardian about how he was able to maneuver a ship going so fast in space without running into other ships, planets, meteors, space garbage. 

Sometimes, he would seek out Heimdall and talk of the Bifrost and Asgardian technology which sounded more like fantasy or mythology than science or technology. He found Heimdall to be soothing to him, calming and as if there was an easiness to the conversation, even if it was just silence. It was as if he knew his burdens and his fears and Heimdahl had seen them through his own eyes. There was a peace sitting with Heimdall. 

Loki would sometimes try to make small talk but Bruce always got an unsettling feeling when he was around as if he was trying to manipulate him. Bruce kept his answers short and polite but felt the desire to stay as far away from him as he could. Hulk screaming in the back of his head to smash him.

Thor would check in every day with his smile and easy charm. He would clap him on the back and keep the talk light and simple. Bruce would smile and laugh with him but sometimes if the conversation lagged, he could look at his friend and see a sadness and an anxiety as well. Once Bruce almost asked him if he felt it, the sense of doom, just to confirm his suspicions but Valkyrie had wandered into his rooms and interrupted the moment. 

 

Valkyrie was loud and strong, confident and smart, and incredibly sexy. On the whole, Bruce was not the kind of man who liked to objectify women. However, when he was with her, he would sometimes think about her naked and he would have to push the thoughts out of his mind. There was an undercurrent to his relationship with Valkyrie as if she knew a part of him that he did not know. 

Valkyrie had leaned over him. She had smelled of a rich herbal scent, ancient and exotic. Her hair tickled his face. “We should leave and go on an adventure. Or we could have some fun here. You're not my type but I am drawn to you. Maybe we should see where this could go..”  
He had laughed nervously and rubbed his hands. “There is this person back on Earth..”

She had laughed, pushing him and putting his hand up to stop him and said “ You are funny. Too funny. I will never understand Earthlings. ” 

She had wandered out of his room to see if she could find alcohol or adventure. Valkyrie was restless.

It is always night in space, immensely dark and lonely. It makes him restless. 

So now, when the alarms were going off and the distress signals are over the intercom and all frequencies, he helps the last of the Asgardians on an escape pod and Bruce wonders if this is why he has been so restless because he sensed this danger. 

Korg and Valkyrie have offered to go with the people, to protect and keep them safe. 

He looked at her and thinks she is lovely. 

Leaning on her toes, Valkyrie kissed his cheek, “See you later, big guy.”

He answered her as the doors shut, “Take care, little girl.” 

When he watched her ship take off from the window, Bruce thought he could still feel the press of her lips against his skin. Her ship was the last one to make it free from the enemy’s fire. As he made his way to the command deck, he thought to himself he might miss her more than he would like. 

 

Bruce has nightmares of being locked in a box and never being able to get out. He has nightmares of being ejected into space and floating in infinity like space garbage, unknown and unloved. Bruce has nightmares of never seeing Earth. He has nightmares of never seeing Nat again. 

 

He hears the screams of the dying and the fires that have been caused by explosions. Bruce hesitates for a moment, thinking of the dreams he has of Nat in his arms. He wonders if she has worried for him. His body feels smaller, shrunken, unreal. Bruce has been without his body for too long. It has made him awkward and clumsy.

One night a few weeks ago, he had woken from a restless sleep. Bruce had been dreaming about Natasha. He thinks he might be going crazy because since then, he cannot sleep. All he does is think about her, her lips, her strength, her hair, her sense of humor, her eyes, her body, her intelligence. The list of her qualities is endless. 

Bruce knows he is heading to her even if it might take months to reach her and hundreds of battles. On some level, he is the closest he has been to her in years. 

He tries to not think about how close she was to him that day. He tries not to think of how he had truly believed she was going to go away with him, run away and leave it all behind. He had been thinking of where they could go, making a list of safe places in his mind, making a list of the ways he was going to take care of them. Bruce had been thinking about all the simple things he would do; watching her drink tea in the morning, or watching a movie as the rain fell, or reaching out in the dark as he slept and feeling her body as comfort. 

Then, she had pushed him and said she wanted the other guy. 

Today, he will give them what they want. He will give them the other guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Where did time go? Hopefully the next part doesn't take so long...


	5. Bruce and Nat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay... So obviously, this is after the Battle for Wakanda.

In the soft, crisp sheets of this bed, he has gotten lost in the decadence of her body; in the warm twist of her legs, in the fullness of her pink lips, in the light, fruity smell of her hair and the smell of her body, in the the rise and fall of her breathing, in the sweetness of her lying beside him in the dark with the faintest light from the city glow from the shades.

There is an unrealness to her lying next to him, sleeping. He cannot believe that they made love for most of the night. He cannot believe she is still here and it was not a trick or a ploy. She whispered to him before she fell asleep, “ I missed you. If you have to leave, wake me up.”

He had heard the unevenness in his voice, “I am not going anywhere without you.”  
“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

A few hours ago, he had gone into the kitchen, looking for food and something for the pain. The Wakandans had put them up in this wing of the palace for foreign dignitaries. It was several hallways and floors, with various bedrooms, bathrooms, and living spaces, as well as a kitchen. They had decided they would take several hours to rest and see if they could collect more information. After all, even Earth’s mightiest heroes needed to rest. Thor had chosen a master bedroom with a view of the city and the mountains. Cap had chosen a room but had left to go check on security and see if Tony had made contact or if he was one of the ones who had disappeared. 

Bruce had eaten some pasta and went to pass out in a relatively simple room. He had thought for sure he would fall into a deep sleep almost immediately. Instead, he had found himself restless, haunted by the images on the media of people disappearing, mothers letting infants fall as they turned to ash, planes crashing because pilots vanishing mid-flight, car accidents because drivers were wiped from existence. Thanos might have wiped out half the population of the universe but how many people died because of those folks instantaneously disappearing. 

Bruce couldn’t sleep so he had one to make himself a sandwich or a glass of milk. He sees Natalia at the table, drinking water. She is the only thing in the room he sees. He opens the fridge and pours himself some almond milk, “Can't sleep?”

“No, I am not so good at it. Not anymore. Not ever..” She ran her fingers through her short blonde hair. 

 

Bruce continued, “It's good to see you. So much has changed since I have been gone.” 

She nodded in agreement. He looked at his hands trying to figure out what to say. When Bruce looked up, she had crossed the room to stand near him. He speaks like it is a warning or a plea. Maybe, it is both.”Nat.”

He thinks briefly about what she has gone through since he has been gone. He thinks about the way she looks at Steve, at T’Challa, and wonders what has happened since he was gone. Bruce would like to hear all the things that have happened to her but there is no time. Soon, Steve will be back to wake them up or even worse, there will be another attack, another threat. 

When her voice speaks his name, all husky and breathless, he thinks he could stay here in this kitchen looking at his glass of milk, listening to her say his name, and forget the entire world.

“Bruce…” she says, “I missed you.”  
She kissed him. Bruce was glad because he never thought he would be able to will himself from his almond milk and the awkwardness. The kiss is a culmination of years of want and unresolved tension. His body aches for her and he grabs her hips to pull her against him. The kiss is hot and long. When they pull apart breathless, he is hard against her stomach.

She speaks, looking into his eyes, ”I wanted to tell you something for years.”

Bruce doesn’t want to talk now. He wants to carry her upstairs and pull that Wakanda Forever t-shirt off her body and fuck her. Instead, he laughs, not letting her out of his arms, “You wanted to tell me something for years… What is it?” 

 

He wants to feel her beneath him in the space of his arms. He wants so much. He wants to learn her body. 

Nat speaks, “I adore you.” 

 

The words make all his insecurity rise to the surface. Suddenly, Bruce feels hesitation and a desire to flee. This is a pain. It is like a cut in your mouth and he likes the way it feels when his tongue pushes against it, the idea of whether she wants him or the Hulk. She has never wanted him, completely wanted him and now Hulk is not coming back, he thinks to go to his room alone. 

“It's just me,” he says, apologetically. 

“Stop thinking,” she says, “I only want you.”

Bruce stops thinking. Instead, he picks her up and carries her to his room. Now he is laying here, naked, as she sleeps against him. He does not know how long they have together. He wants to remember this today and every day, so even if she is the next one who turns to ash. Her molecules will remember his touch. And if there is a way to return to him, she will come by memory.


End file.
